Nightblade's Verse Book
by Kool Khajiit
Summary: My ongoing attempt at Elder Scrolls-themed poetry. Content will be updated. I hope you'll enjoy.
1. The Bend'r-Mahk

_The following will be a collection of my Elder Scrolls-themed poetic pieces. For now, there is only one verse, but the Book will be updated. Excuse my English in advance._

_I hope you'll enjoy._

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><p><strong>The Bend'r-Mahk<strong>

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><p><strong><em>Nightblade's Note: <em>**_"The Bend'r-Mahk" was inspired by the War of the Bend'r-Mahk in 3E 397, as well as the events related to it, most notably the ones of The Elder Scrolls Travels: Shadowkey._

With scimitars, daggers and swords all unsheathed

They stand on the hills and raise their shields

Their aim is to keep safe the great Alik'r

Their battle cry loud, instilling the fear

Their greatest desire's to drive off the Nords

They are not afraid, they praise their lord

The town of Skaven lies in ruins, alone

Two provinces stand against Skyrim's revolt

But shadows are cast from the glistening blades

From rugged battlefields they steer away

The conflict grows closer to darkness' sway

No seasoned warrior, but a shadowmage

While both sides are ripe with woe and death

They strengthen the shadow of Umbra' Keth

And when their corpses will be laid to rest

They'll haunt their own graves at Asuul's behest

When Crowns and Forebears united no more

And Dragonstar city does not stand as whole

When peaceful lands are torn apart by the war

That is when one can hear Umbra' Keth's roar

A shadowy creature within Crypt of Hearts

Can only be slain by the light of the stars

And when the pedestals house the Star Teeth

The evil is gone, or so they believe...


	2. Thrice Cursed

_A second poem. I hope you'll enjoy._

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><p><strong>Thrice Cursed<strong>

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><p><strong><em>Nightblade's Note: <em>**_The following was inspired by Red Mountain's eruption, the cause, and the Red Year._

The East Empire Company left

And Solstheim lies cast off

The nordic crypts of island's past

Resemble the ashtrays

Of emptiness it's now a nest

Secunda's light aloft

The Dunmer people, ash in their chests

They did come here to stay

The cruel and fierce Red Mountain's breath

It blotted out the sun

I heard some Dunmer priestess said

That it's the Daedra's curse

The whole next year the skies were red

Be it dawn or dusk

The endless night drove people mad

It's laid upon this verse

The East Empire Company left

No ebony to mine

The Daedric Prince Azura led

Her people from the plague

And Vvardenfell's beneath the ash

The plains were once alive

The Dunmer went to meet cold land

Their future is but vague

The cruel and fierce Red Mountain's breath

It sings the song of doom

I heard some Dunmer priestess said

That it's the Daedra's curse

The whole next year the skies were red

Consider it a "boon"

The fall of Lie Rock in Vivec

It's laid upon this verse


	3. The Swing Job

_A third poem, and my favorite so far. Please tell me what you think!_

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><p><strong>The Swing Job<strong>

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><p><em><strong>Nightblade's Note: <strong>__The Swing Job is a piece describing one of my nightly operations in Skyrim._

The silhouette moving on rooftops in haste

In shadows it hid, cast by Masser's bright light

A short bow was resting on nightblade's waist

Before poisoned arrows were nocked on it tight

The nightblade inhaled, crouching by whipped urns

A shadowy veil cloaking his mantled arms

An arrow went past, a few moments, he turns

To see the approaching Redoran Guards

The nightblade rolled back before casting a spell

His ebony shortsword bloodthirsty, unsheathed

A thrust and a swing, and the lifeless guard fell

The others were blinded by his shadows' weave

The nightblade advanced, bloody blade steady held

A few mighty clashes and shadows attacked

Another guard died before magics dispelled

Alas, but too injured he was to fight back

A few drops of blood fell from nightblade's cloak

Assailant's outnumbered, fatigued, overwhelmed

A few wooden barrels to guards he did poke

To buy some more time for his trump, Shadow Step

A blink of an eye, and he ran the rooftops

From one to the other, to Bulwark's stone wall

He jumped on the edge and sheathed his shortsword

Then vanished, so guards couldn't see him at all

Away from the colony did he disperse

On bedroll he rested behind ashen stones

He held a worn out but quite fat coin purse

A fitting reward for the shadowy work

Next day he came up with a brand new contract

Knapsack full of scrolls, and a saddled guar

Across the empty ash wastes he rode fast

The silhouette, galloping, seen from afar


	4. Bardic Songs

_A chapter in three parts. I thought of some pieces that might be sung by the bards in taverns, and that's what I came up with._

_I hope you'll enjoy._

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><p><strong>Bardic Songs, Part I: Tyrone the Wall<strong>

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><p><strong><em>Nightblade's Note: <em>**_A cheerful song about a Breton warrior named Tyrone, who had his left hand cut off during the siege of Oblivion Gates._

Have you heard of the tale of Tyrone the Wall

A one-handed Breton of Cheydinhal

He drinks all the greef and he beds all the maids

Seducing them all with his fancy black braids

A typical old womanizer, you'd say

But this tale will cast your opinion away

Before he sang songs every night in the inn

Emptying exported bottles of flin

He fought the foul beasts by Oblivion's gates

In unholy blood his steel war axe was bathed

And many a Daedra were quickly laid low

After Tyrone the Wall delivered his blows

But one night, Dremora Kynreeve stroke Tyrone

With his reddish hammer he shattered the bone

Before the Kynreeve's life was put to an end

Tyrone came to know that he lost his left hand!

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><p><strong>Bardic Songs, Part II: The Shivering Isles<strong>

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><p><strong><em>Nightblade's Note: <em>**_Utter madness, a song that makes little to no sense. Might be perfect for one of the bards in Passwall or New Sheoth._

All praise the Mad God

You will get cheese, a lot

Or you'll be sent to rot

In the dark cave with piles of dead slaughterfish

All praise the Mad God

He is bold, he is hot

And you willingly nod

Cause Boiled Creme Treats are a damn perfect dish

And if you are searching for useless adventure

Express your desire in nothing but gestures

And go, pack your bags, get ready to venture

To Shivering Isles

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><p><strong>Bardic Songs, Part III: High Seekers' Poem<strong>

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><p><em><strong>Nightblade's Note: <strong>__Basically, a song describing the past and the fate of the antagonist of Songs of Cinder, my Morrowind fanfiction. It can be found here on ._

The wizard is dead, but his shadow's alive

His body is nothing but a rotten ash pile

But red and black void hides behind the twin moons

Velar still feasts on adventurers' souls

Hiding his face, in the darkness he lived

He craved for more power and sought out a Prince

Now lost in the waters of Knowledge and Fate

With three Eldritch Tomes his realm was soon shaped

This wasn't enough, and further he went

Corpses he raised and shadows he bent

Then he unveiled secrets of the arcane

Before the cursed pact made a twist in his fate

For decades he planned his untimely return

But he didn't know he was banished from Nirn

He rows in dark waters, his path is unknown

A self-proclaimed Prince in the armored red robes

The wizard's affairs are Hermaeus' play

The High Seekers write his long story's last page


End file.
